


Love Drunk

by writergirl8



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl8/pseuds/writergirl8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accepted apology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Drunk

He knocks on the door early in the morning, wincing as the sound hits his ears. He’s actually amazed that he made it all the way over to Hazel’s apartment, as the light had almost been a deal breaker. But he has to apologize. He’s still rehearsing the words in his head when the door swings open.

“Hi,” Hazel says, lips quirked up. “How are you feeling?” Leo leans his head heavily against the doorframe in response, making a sound that reminds him of a wookie. “That good, huh?” Hazel giggles.

“Is she awake yet?”

“You know she’s a morning person. What do you think?”

“Well, can I come in and see her?” Leo wants to know.

“Sure,” Hazel says easily, moving aside. “Knock before you walk into her bedroom. It’s good manners.”

Ever since Calypso had moved in with Hazel, the latter had been excellent at reminding Leo of what was mannerly and what wasn’t. This is good because most of the time he dives in headfirst and doesn’t think about how it’s going to affect other people. He certainly doesn’t want to do that with Calypso; gun-shy is an understatement when it comes to her. She basically spends her days at a precipice, waiting for him to leave her. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he never will, not eloquently, so instead he builds her stuff that’s lasting, like a dresser for her clothes and shelves for her closet. He hopes that this is enough.

She’s lying on the bed, reading a novel. Her eyes skate curiously over the page, finger guiding her eyes along the words. It’s a pretty sight, cool and fresh like a cucumber, and it makes Leo forget how much he wants to punch himself in the face at the moment.

“What are you reading?”

She looks up and smiles at the sight of him, then holds up the cover so that he can inspect it further.

“The Great Gatsby. Annabeth loaned me her copy. Says that it’s something that most people who attended high school in America will have read, and that it would be an interesting exploration in 20s culture.”

“She’s probably right,” Leo admits, moving from the doorframe so that he can flop onto Calypso’s bed and drop a brief kiss on her lips. “I’m pretty sure I sparknoted the hell out of that book. The writing was way too flowery to actually be understandable.”

“What is sparknoting?”

Leo hesitates.

“Um. Never mind.”

Calypso smiles again, then neatly closes her book.

“How are you feeling?”

“I came to apologize,” Leo says at the same time. When she just looks at him, he decides to plow forward. “I know that last night was no fun for you. I want to say that I’m sorry that I didn’t really, you know, try to make it more enjoyable for you and that I’m sorry that you had to deal with me getting so… well… shit faced.”

Calypso blinks at him.

“Isn’t that what every American does on his twenty-first birthday? I distinctly remember Jason and Percy doing the same things.”

Leo rearranges himself on the bed, lying down so that he can hide his face in the covers and not have to look at her.

“Yeah, but their girlfriends aren’t daughters of Titans who lives by themselves on an island for hundreds of years. And if they are, there’s a lot of shit that Annabeth and Piper and I need to talk about.”

His voice is muffled by the duvet. Calypso gently reaches down and places his head in her lap. He flips over so that he’s facing upward while she strokes his hair.

“I had fun because you had fun,” Calypso says sweetly. “I want to make you happy, and if that means you going out and getting drunk on your twenty-first birthday, I daresay I’m okay with that.”

Leo squints.

“Aren’t you usually more of a spitfire than this?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she chuckles, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “If you make a habit of coming home drunk, I will skin your hide. But for now, let me go get you some water and those pills that Hazel suggested when you arrived.”

It seems like a good enough deal to Leo.


End file.
